


Favor

by GoblinCity



Series: Dragonheart AU [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, M/M, No one dies AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 02:15:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5725948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoblinCity/pseuds/GoblinCity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A meeting of the three kings with their own agendas. Thranduil wishes to return Bard's overture with a grand gesture of his own. Bard wants to keep an eye on Sigrid. Thorin just wants everyone to go home.</p><p>Set after Tourney.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Favor

With newfound but moderately dispensed wealth and position came the most priceless of treasures for Sigrid: free time. No more cooking and cleaning and chasing after Tilda and Bain. There were constraints on her time, of course, language lessons, decorum, histories and government, but she could be selfish with what was left over. Bard was only just beginning to learn this, and it both saddened and heartened him. 

Which was why he was testing his own patience waiting for her to come downstairs and join the rest of them for the short journey to Erebor that they, realistically, should have left for an hour ago.

He was just about to call out and ask if she’d fallen in and gotten stuck somewhere when she made it to the top of the stairs and began to descend. 

“Sigrid took a bath,” Tilda announced, sliding her hand into Bard’s free hand. 

“About time,” Bain muttered, raising his eyebrows as Sigrid did not glare, but looked on him disapprovingly.

“Maybe you ought to follow her example,” Bard teased, nudging Bain’s shoulder with his own. 

“I washed yesterday!” Bain protested and ducked around his father to head for the door. 

“Da,” Sigrid huffed and rolled her eyes in Bain’s general direction. “He doesn’t take anything seriously.”

“I take axes seriously,” Bain turned with his hand on the door, his other hand on his hip.

“Axes?” Bard frowned, looking from Sigrid to Bain, “What happened to swords?”

“Swords can’t split someone’s head open like a melon,” Bain said confidently, as though he had actually seen this happen. He hadn’t. But he had seen Dwalin split a melon with an axe and imagined it was the same thing.

“And bows?” Bard arched a brow, humoring his son for the moment and not questioning the splitting of heads or melons.

“I need something to fight with when I run out of arrows, don’t I?” Bain took his hand off the door, crossing both his arms over his puffed out chest.

Bard just gave him a long look, “Are you pestering Dwalin to teach you to throw axes?”

“It’s not pestering! He offered! And Gloin is loaning me his son’s practice ones until I graduate to metal,” Bain was confident that would be soon. 

“When did all this happen?” Bard asked, not really expecting a reply.

Sigrid draped a cloak over her shoulders and smiled slyly, “He’s on a dwarf kick now that he’s realized he’ll never be as pretty as an elf with those spots and breaking voice.” 

Bain glared, “Says the one who took a bath and is wearing dwarven braids!” 

Bard felt hopelessly lost as he looked from Bain to Sigrid, “How can you tell the difference in the braids? Why-“

Tilda tugged his hand, drawing Bard’s attention down to her as she pointed to her own plaits, “Mine are elven braids. They’re prettier.”

“Dwarven braids are just as pretty!” Sigrid’s mouth pulled into a line. She tossed her head and clasped her cloak, moving to shoulder past Bain who jostled her until she whirled. “Da!” 

“Out the door, both of you, dwarven braids, elven braids, what happened to regular old braids?” Bard bent to scoop up Tilda and hold her on his hip as he exited. 

She just sighed at him and shook her head, “Oh, Da.”


End file.
